


Unpleasant Reprisals

by planningconquest



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Rebels
Genre: Rescue Missions, a small fight, breaking art, spanking fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:10:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9401120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planningconquest/pseuds/planningconquest
Summary: Ezra breaks some art and Thrawn is pretty displeased.





	

 Ezra Bridger watched the Imperial officers and Stormtroopers go sprinting down the hall. Toward the area they had just left. 

     "We need to split up," he said urgently, snagging his master's elbow and stopping him. "They'll be looking for two people together who shouldn't be. Thrawn won't, well, he shouldn't be in his office if the last shipment of art just got firebombed. I'll go to his office to get the battle plans and you go blend in with the others and make us a way out of here."

"Watch yourself, Ezra." Kanan warned, taking hold of Ezra's shoulder. "He's dangerous and it could get messy. If you get in over your head just drop and leave."

"Hey!" Ezra flashed his master a bright smile he knew the other man couldn't see. Still, habits died hard. "I'll be fine."

"Go, we meet up as soon as we can. Hera is standing by."

"On it." The younger man patted his master's shoulder one last time and moved away to adjust his cap. Instead of of a trooper armor he'd snagged an Imperial officers uniform. The light gray uniform fit him well, cinched around his waist but he thought the boots and the poofing around his thighs and knees was a bit much. Still, with the cap over his eyes and a stern, command straight march, Ezra blended in with the other officers. 

 Unable to produce his communicator for which to see the map Ezra had to follow the directions he'd memorized from Chopper. The halls of the compound were bland and white, blending into one another and making no sense. Little to no personality was sunk into the walls. When he came across a gold embossed door with a wide image of fragmented white and black image painted onto its side, Ezra grinned. This had to be Thrawn's office. No one else in the Empire would ever dare to have such a door. Careful with any newcomers in the halls, Ezra slipped the stolen key card into the door and stepped through as it opened. 

   He found an office, well-furnished and decorated with all of the knick-nacks and ornaments that one might expect from the Chiss.  The desk was wooden, well-carved and polished with datapads and flimsi's scattered around the top. A holo-projection of the Corellian System took up one side of the wall and the other was covered in a bizzare painting Ezra felt dizzy looking at. On pedestals and stands around the room were trinkets, carvings, a few vases, and a wide selection of miniature portraits set on little golden stands. A little startled, Ezra paused to examine a miniature and then another and before he could stop himself Ezra was browsing the entire collection. He spent a few minutes staring as the dizzying painting on the wall with a critical eye. Unsure what it meant and not really sure he wanted to know. There were plenty of holos too. A few of known rebels and, surprisingly enough, a good selection of Sabine's art showcased tastefully in one corner.  If he'd seen Hera's inheritance around, the kalikori, he would have grabbed it but it didn't seem to be here. With a shiver of fear Ezra found was remained of his energy sling. The pieces were laying in a well-arranged circle. Ezra poked at the burnt out power pack. 

"An peculiar place to find a young officer." Ezra stiffened, ice-cold fear rushing down his chest, and glanced behind him. Grand Admiral Thrawn was standing several feet inside the office, arms crossed and watching him. Ezra hadn't heard the door open and he was pretty sure that the alien had not been in the office when he'd come in. "When there is a crisis such as the one currently engulfing our hanger bay in flames."

     "Yes, sir." He'd had enough practice modulating his voice in the last few year due to Sabine's teaching. Hopefully he could pass himself off as a core-worlder.

"And to have found yourself in my office." Thrawn gave a peculiar sort of hum. "Perusing my collection as if this were a public museum. Peculiar as my office was under lock-down." 

"Yes, sir." He scrambled for an explanation and found nothing. His mind was blank. He had Grand Admiral Thrawn waiting for a reply while he was in disguise, in his office, and his mind was blank. 

"Perhaps it is best for the Rebellion that you do not continue on taking undercover missions, Ezra Bridger." Ezra closed his eyes and winced. "Though I appreciate your efforts in attempting to at least try to pass an an officer."

  He didn't have any weapons with him and when he turned around he noticed Thrawn was likewise unarmed. "It's a nice gallery." He said, stepping to one side and sliding behind a fancy looking tea cup on a stand. "A little creepy though."

"Thank you. I trust you find my selection of Sabine Wren's artwork to be well-chosen. Her earliest piece is here," he nodded to a bright orange and purple splattering. "An excellent beginning for an extraordinary artist." 

"She likes color." They were moving in a circle. With every step Ezra took the alien mirrored it. Too late he realized that he was now backed up against Thrawn's desk and the Chiss was before an electronic panel. He winced and marveled as the Imperial Grand Admiral raised a single blue-black eyebrow. Without breaking eye contact Thrawn slammed his fist into the panel, the lights dimmed and stuttered out. There was a high-pitched whine of complaining electronics and Ezra knew that he was locked in. Emergency lights flickered on to illuminate the art and both men. Blood red eyes glittered in the relative darkness of the room. Ezra winched. "And I like lights." 

"Really?" Thrawn's supreme lack of concern was grating against Ezra's dignity. He looked around for a weapon and cursed when he only came across datapads and flimsi's. "It will be some time before the door is opened by outside influence."

"You did just sabotage the door," Ezra agreed. "With a punch." He flashed the most insolent smile he could manage. "Are you sure you're not force sensitive? You'd make a great inquisitor."

"Perhaps." A worryingly speculative gaze ran up and down Ezra's form as if the alien were just now beginning to understand some hidden or lost facet of his personality and mind. As if he were just putting connections together that he'd been wondering at.  "You're master has already fled, Padawan Bridger." Ezra gritted his teeth.

"Then I'll just have to go after him." He moved just as Thrawn did. One hand reaching to snatch up a datapad and launch it at the blue head. Thrawn dodged. Ezra squeaked and slipped over the desek as he grabbed more pads and hurled more datapads. One connected with the white clad chest. The others were dodged with similar ease and Ezra stumbled away as the distance between them closed.  A paperweight was launched and ducked and the shattering of ceramic that followed a moment later gave them both pause. Violet and red eyes turned to see the scattered remains of a red and white vase that lay about the floor. "Uh oh." Ezra's awkward grin and helpless shake of his shoulders seemed to do nothing to alleviate the rising temper of the Grand Admiral.  Dark blue features worked themselves into a terrifying resemblance of vengeance and fury. His lips thinned and his cheeks tinged a pale pink beneath his blue skin.  There was a dark pause of unending possibilities and total silence before Ezra ducked the fist flying toward his face. Seconds later Thrawn was on him, brawling with the efficiency and wholly unexpected violence. Only long-time experience and training plus the force kept him away from the flying hits. 

   Their fight was contained to the back of the desk and around the empty chair. Ezra had fought Darth Vader, Maul and dozens of inquisitors, he'd been in and out of scrapes with pirates and gangsters. He'd been confronted by a furious Hera after crashing her ship, a disappointed Kannan and chased by an irritated Chopper. None of them began to equal the promise of pain that was lurking in every line of Thrawn's body.  After a few minutes their scuffle ended with a spectacular blow to Ezra's shoulder that sent him spinning out of control. As he spun, Thrawn seized his arms and shoulder and shoved the boy face-down onto the desk, his left arm twisted up behind his back and his other and smashed uselessly between his body and the wood. 

"That." Thrawn's usually smooth voice was closer to a hiss and a snarl than anything. His fury clear in the intense grip on back of Ezra's neck and his wrist. "Was a vase excavated from a mine on Corellia, ancient and irreplaceable. Possibly one of the last clues to the origins of humanity!" Ezra yelped as the bones in his wrist began to grind together and the Grand Admiral seemed to weigh even heavier on him.  Struggling and squirming proved useless, he was thoroughly pinned and unable to move. Thrawn's leg was cross over Ezra's, which dangled a good three inches from the floor. The Jedi cursed furiously as the Imperial went silent. "Are you aware, Bridger, that there is no knowledge of the origin of the human race? That, as far as  _anyone_ is concerned, your species ought not to exist! No planets to match your specifications and necessity? That  _you_ ," the grip on his neck tightened. Ezra hissed out a breathless whine of pain. "Just. Destroyed. One. Such. Clue?"

  "You shouldn't have left it where it could get smashed! Or you shouldn't have dodged!" Ezra managed to gasp out and took a deep, grateful breath as the hand on his neck lifted. He tried to move and found that the arm pinning his hand to his back now weighed heavy enough to keep him pinned without the assistance of the other hand. 

    "It seems," Thrawn's voice had cooled enough that Ezra now felt a sudden surge of terror that he hadn't known since he'd first been captured by Imperials. "That you not fully  _appreciate_ just how grievous your crime is, boy." 

"Wasn't," He tried for a sarcastic, maybe blithe response. The only thing that came out as second later was as astonished yelp as Grand Admiral Thrawn's free hand descended on his rear end. "What?" He yelped again, squirming with greater ferocity against the grip and leverage used against him kept him in perfect striking range of the descending hand. The second slap connected with the same firmness, followed swiftly by more. "Are you doing?" 

"I should think it quite clear." The alien sounded angry still but his voice was now that familiar smooth tones the rebel was used to. Without a hitch of breath that would suggest he was actually exerting himself.  He struck again, Ezra yelped. 

"STOP!"

 "I think not." Halfway between something like terror and astonishment, Ezra began to squirm for any sort of leverage. Thrawn did not budge, his grip on Ezra was vice-like and there was no chance for him to avoid the stinging swats that fell on his rear. 

 "An antique! Of Priceless value! A lost clue! Your ill-advised temper tantrum! Your foolhardy rebel idiocy! Contained in a room with a superior enemy and your first thought is to start throwing things? A better tactical advantage would have been to surrender! To wait for an opportunity!" Ezra might have agreed with Thrawn's coolly spoken lecture if he weren't arrested by the now building sting from his bottom. As humiliating as the instance was he did not focus on the embarrassment of the spanking. He couldn't focus on something as paltry as that when the pain was really beginning to ache. Each subsequent spank brought a pained yelp from his lips. Bearing the whole thing stoically and being unaffected as the Imperial picked up speed.  "I must assume that your master has taken no interesting in proper Jedi discipline or that Jedi discipline was already non-existent when they were wiped out."  Ezra didn't open his mouth, he couldn't for fear of what sort of embarrassing noise he would make. He refused to cry. He refused to let the Imp know that he was having any sort of an effect on him. 

  It almost felt like he was on fire, stoked every time the aliens too-firm hand fell with almost righteous anger on his rear. He might have agreed with Thrawn on the tactical stupidity he 'seemed to display at every opportunity' if every word of his lecture weren't punctuated by a blistering spank.

  Tears leaked from his bright eyes and Ezra pushed his forehead harder against the desk to deflect against the pain. His fingers scrabbled against the hand around his wrist to no avail. A gasping sob pushed its way out of his chest, followed another and then another until he was unable to stop them. As he reached the point of abandoning all coherency the ever-weakening struggles stopped all together. There was little else to do but for Ezra to survive to the point when Thrawn thought he had punished him enough.

   @#$3

 Thrawn might have been furiously angry beyond anything he had felt in recent years but he was still in enough command of himself to not overdue Bridger's spanking. He knew, more than most, that acting out of anger usually brought on far-reaching consequences that could have been avoided.  When the boy had surrendered after lasting a lot longer than the Imperial would have initially given him credit for. He figured that if he continued in this manner much longer then the Jedi Padawan would not give this the necessary weight and meaning when he eventually escaped.   

   Still, the sorry slump of his thin shoulders and the helpless sobbing almost made him feel better about the destroyed vase. When he moved his legs and pulled Bridger back far enough that his toes touch the floor his knees buckled. Releasing his wrist only mean that the padawan brought it around to bury his face in his hands.  Tutting with irritation, Thrawn hauled the shaking rebel off his desk. Ezra stumbled back into his chest, apparently unable to hold himself up. The inconvenience of dealing with Bridger lasted only a few seconds as the Imperial carried/pushed him toward one of the only other chairs in the room. It was a comfortable one, with soft cushions and smooth upholstery and when Thrawn dropped the boy with little ceremony he was annoyed to see the boy missed the chair completely. Bridger collapsed only halfway onto the chair, his knees to the floor and draping his upper torso and head over the green cushion. There he continued to cry, unabated and apparently deeply shamed. 

 There wasn't much else he could do except head back to the crime scene and see if the vase could be repaired. He thought he would lecture the human further when he finally regained the uses of his facilities. Except that that might not happen for a while considering just how incoherent Bridger was at the moment.  

#$#$

 

Ezra grounded himself in the touch of the fabric and the forgiving cushion beneath him. Clutching with a death grip to the edge of the chair and trying to avoid putting any pressure on his aching rear. Through his training bond he could been Kanan panicking having obviously picked up on the pain shooting down their connection.  His bright eyes screwed shut but tears were still leaking out. He pillowed his head in his arms and reached for his frantic master. 

 Their connection was fuzzy at the best of times. They could communicate with emotions, images, and impressions but no solid words. Ezra, as he struggled valiantly for composure, sent the impressions of pain yet survival and the begging that his master would rescue him as quickly as possible. Kanan's assurances rushed back to him, full of promise and concern. Desperate for any affection that could be offered at the moment, Ezra leaned into Kanan's presence, soaking up the affection the older man could give. It had been a long time, since he'd learned of his parents' death, that he'd done anything like that. Beneath the reassurances and the affection his master offered there was obviously an undercurrent of pure panic and worry. Still, Ezra clung to him for any alleviation of his embarrassment and pain. 

##4

Thrawn was impressed and duly irritated when he noticed that Bridger had calmed down enough to find the human asleep. Tears were still tracking down his dark face and he hiccuped. His head was still resting on the armchair seat, one arm pillowing his head and the other tucked around his waist.  He considered giving the boy a rude awakening and decided against it. Bridger would be far more malleable if he woke up disoriented and confused when his troopers finally cut through his door.  A few minutes later the distant and muffled sounds of cutting and drilling made themselves known. Satisfied, he returned to his paper work and began to send out missives for their strongest holding cell to be prepared.

#$#$#

Ezra woke up with a groan, his head ached, his rear end still ached. He squeezed his eyes shut as a light was shined in them.

"You appear to have survived without complications."

"Stop." He held up a hand to shield his eyes. The pen light was withdrawn. His brain began to reboot and he remembered yesterday's incident with a deep blush. Not really wanting to give Thrawn the satisfaction, Ezra focused instead on the buzzing noises that were getting louder with each minute. "What's that?"

"The door is being cut through." The alien replied and considered his slumped form before tossing a water bottle onto the chair next to his head. "You will be in chains in minutes." 

"Right." The seal on the bottle didn't look like it had been broken, he checked for further tampering. 

"I would not drug you, Bridger. I intend to being questioning as soon as you are properly contained." 

"Of course you are." Ezra replied, breaking the seal and downing the entire bottle within a minute. The headache drew back a bit. He rubbed his face and felt the stiffness of the salt that had been left there. When he felt like he could get up the process began slowly. Arms and legs ached along with the demanding complaints from his buttocks. Even knowing Thrawn was watching him with something like fascination, Ezra went along carefully. When he was finally on his feet, blood rushing back to his , and leaning heavily on the chair he finally glanced about. "What time is it?" 

"Not for you to know." 

"Really?" He checked his chrono and grimaced when he found it was gone. A glance back at the alien told him who had it. "Really?" 

"Yes." Thrawn had settled behind his desk. Paperwork in his hands and his red eyes glanced between the door, where the bright red of melting metal was obvious. He might of spoken further if the door had not been knocked down and the first face that Ezra and Thrawn registered was an enraged Hera. "Ah." There was an awkward moment as Hera advanced on the Imperial. 

"Ezra, are you alright?"

"He has not suffered undue arm.:" The alien narrowed his eyes as Zeb and Sabine followed on her heels. 

"Move and I take your head." Hera snarled, she and Sabine's weapons did not waver as Zeb slung one of his brother's arm around his shoulder and helping him stand. 

"I'm okay," Ezra protested, "I'll be fine."

"Kid, I've got you. Just lean on me."  The rebels made a speedy retreat from the room and then the compound. Sabine scored and impressive hit on a few dozen stormtroopers and took Agent Kallus out with a beautiful shot to his torso.  As soon as they made it aboard the Phantom II Kanan grabbed Ezra close and Hera made for the pilots chair.

"Ezra." Kanan carefully pressed the younger man closer, reveling in the sensation of having his padawan back in his arms. "Ezra, what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it." Ezra muttered into his chest. "Just, not now."

"I know you were in a lot of pain," Kanan smoothed down the dark hair. "Zeb, does he have any bruises?"

"None that I can see." Sabine noted the blush that darkened her brother's face. 

"Ezra?" Now Kanan sounded worried, "Please tell me what happened." 

"Later," Ezra begged, "Not here." 

"Alright." Kanan agreed and patted Ezra's back carefully. "We'll talk about it later."  

 Later, when Ezra had sunk gratefully onto his own bunk. Settling down on his stomach and pulling his favorite blanket over his head he knew his master was coming. As Kanan agreed they would have the discussion alone. Ezra wasn't sure he could handle seeing the other's faces when it came out. 

"Kid?" Kanan walked in, the door hissing shut behind him. 

"Hey, Kanan." 

"Could you tell me now? Hera's getting really worried and I." A second later Kana's face twisted into shock as Ezra blurted out what had happened. After a rushed breath he elaborated and then fell silence. "Thrawn?"

'Yeah.' He buried his face into his pillow. 

"Oh." the conversation had turned awkward. "Oh dear." 

"I know." Ezra grumbled, "That's why I was so... clingy."

"Okay."  Kana let out a deep breath and approached his padawan. "But you're alive and mostly okay. I'm sure it'll go away soon enough. I can get some painkillers for you if you want."

"That'd be great." 

"And maybe one of the popsicles we've been hoarding." He set an un-gloved hand on the back of Ezra's head. "I'm having kind of a hard time believing it to be honest." 

"I have the sore butt that proves it." Ezra grumbled.

"I guess that's why you haven't sat down?"

"Pretty much, he did a number on me." 

"I can believe that but  I'm going to have to send in Hera, she's been frantic and she's pacing up a storm." Ezra's blush deepened and he wondered if his embarrassment would ever end. 

"Okay." A few minutes later Hera joined him with a popsicle in one hand a two pain pills in her other hand. 

"Ezra?" The padawan rolled onto his side and took the offered items. He didn't dare look Hera in the eyes as he repeated his explanation. "Oh, Ezra." Her arms were around his shoulders and second later. 

"I'll be fine," Ezra huffed, but pleased with the affection. "Really." 

"I know you will be." Hera said quietly, "I know how much pain you were in and how scared your were. Kanan told me, I was worried you were being tortured." 

"It sure felt like it." 

"Hmm."  She kissed the top of his head, rubbing gentle circles on his back.

"I'm not a kid you know." Ezra pointed out as Kanan joined the circle of affection. 

"We'll leave you to your snack and a nap." Hera promised. "You're on light duty until you can sit down again."

"I'm not bruised." He'd checked as soon as he'd had the privacy to do so. 

"Okay." 

"Please don't tell the others." Ezra pleaded, "If Zeb knows I'll never hear the end of it." 

"Ezra." Kanan sighed. 

"Please!" 

"We'll talk about it but this was a family mission and they...really should know."

"Just shoot me," Ezra moaned and pulled his blanket over his head and began in on his frozen snack. 

"We'll see you in the morning." The two promised and vanished through the door. Ezra was asleep again almost as soon as he'd finished his treat.  The next morning he'd finally face the others if they knew the truth or not. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. I really don't. Don't hate me for this.


End file.
